


i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight

by Anonymous



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Other, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Alex knows no man more patient than their Nate. Nathaniel, always the one to roll with whatever is thrown his way. He’s had 330 odd years to hone and perfect this skill, after all. Very little works him up.(And their Nate -always one to give, give, give. So much of himself and his time. Patient, even when it’s not exactly in his own favor)Tonight, they have taken it upon themself to finally crack that carefully placed composure. They want him to be impatient, to want.
Relationships: Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Kudos: 23
Collections: Anonymous





	i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Nate deserves to be taken care of and get his back blown out. As a Treat.

Alex knows no man more patient than their Nate. Nathaniel, always the one to roll with whatever is thrown his way. He’s had 330 odd years to hone and perfect this skill, after all. Very little works him up. 

(And their Nate -always one to give, give, give. So much of himself and his time. Patient, even when it’s not exactly in his own favor)

Tonight, they have taken it upon themself to finally crack that carefully placed composure. They want him to be impatient, to _want_.

They started slow. Meticulous and careful as they worked him open. Neither were _inexperienced_ in this area -(at least if the way his eyes lit up when they slipped the harness of the strap-on around their hips were any indication)- but this was new for _them_ , together. They tested one another’s boundaries, never going faster than the other was ready to, than he was ready to. A single finger at first; soft affirmations kissed into sweat-slicked skin until he was breathlessly pleading for _more_.

(When was the last time he chased pleasure for just himself, they wondered at one point as they watched his hips rock. Doting -always the one to _give_ )

So they give him more. But they keep their pace slow. Languid. Only speeding up enough to give him a glimpse of that edge, just to slow down and reel him back again. They’re enjoying the lazy tempo they’ve created almost as much as they’re enjoying watching him come apart under their hands.

 _Almost_.

“Still alright, love?” Their tone is light, playful and teasing, but their free hand idly trails along one of his thighs that are locked around their hips. Trying to soothe, even though they feel the muscle jump under their touch. Every bit of him seems to be trembling -wound too tight. They trail their hand up, up -featherlight as they brush along his cock, swiping their thumb against the weeping tip. His hips jerk, a breath that sounds borderline pained rushing from his lips. His hands are still balled up, twisted into the sheets at his sides because they asked him not to touch, and he’s never been one to break one of their requests.

“You’re going,” He starts, voice straining, tripping over his words. They wait until he meets their gaze to bring their thumb to their mouth, making a show of pressing it against their tongue, and he makes a sound as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs. “ _Merde-_ you’re going to be my demise.”

They pull their thumb from their mouth with an audible _pop_ , scissoring the fingers still pumping inside him just slightly -enough to make him toss his head back, to draw another moan from him. “And what a way to go this would be.”

(It’s been odd, discovering this side of themself. Giddily confident, dominant. _Comfortable_. All things that previous partners -ones that will remain unnamed- tried to crush out of them at any given chance. But not Nate. Never him, who seems to revel in their found bravery and safety they felt with him -allowing them to take him apart; play his body with the same ease he always manages with them)

Their other hand moves, roaming again. Exploring, following paths they’ve long-since committed to memory. Start at his thigh once more, thumb working circles into the tension there, soothing him to relax. Up, over his hip, following the vee there before lightly trailing their nails up his stomach, reaching his chest just to come back down again. They're careful, even in their intentional teasing, not wanting to overwhelm him and his senses.

“Talk to me Nate. Tell me what you want.”

He looks at them again, his eyes having screwed closed at one point and-

 _oh_.

What a pretty sight he is. 

Eyes blown black, a pitch darker than night itself. His face is flushed, wisps of dark hair clinging to his forehead and cheeks -their free hand itches to reach up and brush them away. His lips are parted, lower one swollen slightly from his own biting at it when he tried to stifle his noises. He just -gazes at them now, with a look full of something bordering reverence. It feels like a physical pressure -a slight _thunk_ where their heart lays, the beat of it suddenly feeling trapped in their throat.

“ _Jaan- Cariad,_ ” He’s babble now, sounding a little lost. A mix of languages they aren’t even sure he realizes he’s speaking. And, not for the first time, they wish they could understand the words he spoke. But the tone, the adoration in his voice, is something they _don’t_ need to translate. “I want-“

 _More. Everything. Anything._ He says none of those, and yet Alex hears them all the same. But it’s not quite enough -another slight push.

Another crack in his composure. That’s all they want.

They crook their fingers just _so_ , while their other hand grips his cock again. They stroke him from base to tip -their grip firm, twisting slightly on the way up in the way they knew he liked so much. His entire body jerks then, back arching as he moans -something loud and _needy_. They lean forward to meet him, as best they can with his legs locked around them, kissing and nipping whatever skin they can reach.

“ _Anaa ataajok-“_ He’s panting, words huffed between breaths he’s struggling to catch. The words are lost on them again, but they hear the desperate edge to them. His hands, finally detangling from the sheets, come to cup their face. A gentle tug, encouraging them to look up at him. Even now, with their teasing and torturing, he’s cradling their face between his palms as if they were a precious piece of artwork. A thumb stroking along their cheek, tracing and connecting the freckles there, while the other brushes against their lips. “I need- I want you, dearheart. _Please_.”

As much as they would enjoy taking him apart like this, with nothing more than their fingers and strokes of their hand, they certainly can’t deny a request like that -not when he’s staring at them with eyes full of heat and want and love. They move, slipping their fingers out of him and he shudders, groaning at the sudden loss, but they lean up to kiss him, catching the sound. Unlike their slow pace before, the kiss is heated, almost fevered.A hand on his chest -his heart racing under their palm- while the other tangles into his hair, they suck on his lower lip until he groans, giving them a chance to slip their tongue past to explore. They feel one hand on their hip, fingers digging in around the straps of the harness almost to the point of aching, while the other comes up to palm at their breast, rolling their nipple between his fingers until they’re whimpering.

They’d be content staying here, like this, with him, for as long as possible. Nothing outside the walls of the walls of this room -just them, existing as themselves, for one another only. A place where they only know the sound of his voice and the taste of his lips on theirs. But their damned human lungs and the frustrating need for air finally forces them to break away, so they settle for pressing their forehead to his instead. They’re smiling -they can’t help it, they wouldn’t be able to wipe it away if they tried- and they’re sure they look almost delirious. They feel lost -wandering somewhere in a mix of lust and love for this ridiculous man underneath them, and if they’re honest with themself, they’d be glad to never be found.

And at least, judging by the smile on _his_ face and the glimmering of his eyes, the feeling seems to be a mutual one. 

But they set out with a goal in mind, and they don’t plan on not following through.

They press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, moving to press another to his cheek when he tries to move to catch their lips with his. One to his jaw, before moving to his ear. “We’re not done yet love,” They whisper, voice full of nothing but temptation and _promise_ , nipping at his earlobe just to feel him shiver, “Turn over for me.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get situated again. Nate turns, settling his weight onto his knees while Alex moves and grabs the lube from the bedside table. They take their time, dragging out the process of coating the strap-on just for the pure benefit of being able to look him over.

“ _Alex_.” It’s as close to impatient as they’ve ever heard him, the always patient facade nowhere to be seen and they consider it a victory on their part. All they can do is grin when he looks over his shoulder to watch them -they don’t miss his eyes darting down to watch their hand stroke the toy, almost idly in the movements. “Is it your goal to try and drive me mad tonight?”

They move to clamber up on the bed behind him, nudging his legs further apart so they can settle between them. “Me? Never!” Their hands are already roaming, fingers dragging up the backs of his thighs, “I’m just enjoying the view. This is a very nice angle, after all.”

He’s mumbling, swearing, they’re sure, but his voice is muffled and lost as he turns to press his face into his arm. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed!” They’re trying to keep from laughing, and failing miserably, which earns them just another muffled grumble. Their hands finally settle onto his hips, tugging slightly, “Raise your hips a little more for me.”

His hips raise, and theirs press forward.

They’re slow again, intentionally careful this time instead of teasing, each rock of their hips pushing them a little further in. They run their hands up his sides, along his back -chasing away any tension they find, and finally, _finally,_ they bottom out.

And for one, fragile moment, neither of them try to move.

“Are you still okay?” No teasing now, a genuine check that he’s alright because now it’s them that _wants_ -they want to move, to bring him over that edge they’d been tormenting him with all night. Their fingers resting on his hips dig in -wordlessly conveying this desire and intent. And then he’s nodding. The muscles in his back tense as he shifts and moves and they could get lost in that sight alone. A tentative roll of their hips, drawing almost all the way out before pressing into him again in one motion. Testing boundaries and limits as he moans.

“I’m- alright, very-“ His voice is low, the words sound heavy on his tongue. It fans that heat brewing in them, their own arousal building. “ _Azizam_ , I need you to move. Fast, please, no more- no more teasing.”

All they can manage is a nod. Their heartbeat is pounding in their ears and they’re sure he can hear the way it’s racing now. 

They find their new pace easily -something fast and harsh that has Nate moaning again, long unbroken sounds now. His hips stutter, rocking, chasing to match their rhythm so they hold him, guide him until they’re moving in tandem.

He looks gorgeous -almost unfairly so, even as he’s teetering on that edge of release. All long limbs and muscle, a sheen of sweat on his tawny skin that’s flushed darker, something even they can see in the low lighting of the room. 

They don’t realize that _they’re_ the one babbling now -mindless mutterings tumbling out of their mouth faster than they can really register them - _you’re gorgeous Nate, I love you so much, I want to make you feel good will you let me do that for you?_

His hands are scrambling to find purchase, gripping and tugging at the sheets beneath him and they know he’s close now. He turns his head again, going to muffle his pleas and moans, but they’re quick to reach up and tangle a hand into his hair once more. Just holding at the roots, never pulling because they’re afraid to hurt him, but they do drag their nails against his scalp lightly, leaving him trembling. Mimicking his gentle encouraging touch from earlier, they get him to turn his head again.

“I want to hear you, love.” They purr, knowing he’ll hear them, accentuating their words with a sharp snap of their hips, “Every noise.”

The almost broken sounding moan from him is, easily, the most beautiful sound they’ve ever heard. 

Their other hand vanishes beneath him, stroking his cock in time with the moving of their hips and he’s gasping, moving and rocking into their touch. “ _Alex_ , love-“

“Come for me, Nate.” A breathy demand, hardly more than a whisper to be lost between the sliver of space between their bodies, “I’ve got you.”

Nate comes with another moan -this one deep and low in his chest, something they _feel_ more than they even hear. More talking -their name, pleas and praises between gasps. They coax him through it, hips stilled as they press into him, the stroking of their hand slow but deliberate as he twitches and spills. They let go as he groans, hips jerking slightly at the touch, and they pepper his back with light kisses as they slip out of him, smiling against skin as he let’s out a breathy little whine at the loss. They move, pulling away to let him flop onto his side -the movement entirely ungraceful and missing any vampiric coordination, leaving them both laughing.

Then, Alex is off the bed entirely, wordlessly cleaning up as they give Nate time to get his composure back. Their own form of self-aftercare to wind down. The throw blanket he’d made a mess of is tossed into the hamper to be dealt with in the morning. They wander in and out, from the bedroom to the bathroom and back again -cleaning themself up, taking the strap-on off, putting things away. 

They come back a final time, damp washcloth in hand, and Nate’s on his back, more a relaxed mass on the bed than anything else, but his breathing is back to normal, so they take that as a sign that he’s come down and wander over, wiping up whatever mess is left on him -happy when he _let’s them_ take care of him in such a way.

They’re able to toss the cloth to the hamper before Nate’s grabbing their arm, fingers gently encircling their wrist to tug them back onto the bed, back to _him_. They prop their arm on his stomach, laying on their side so they can see his face, both already smiling at one another.

”Hello.”

”Hi.”

”You alright?” It’s a reflex to ask, to check-in. Their own habit of over-worrying and thinking too much and caring so damn much about him has made the question, and every variation of it, a regular phrase in their life. 

He laughs a little, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind their ear, “Dearheart, I don’t think I can find a word fit in any language to explain how much more than ‘ _alright_ ’ I am right now.” 

Their face heats at that, something between pleased and embarrassed, “Oh. Well,” they have to clear their throat, and it doesn’t help when they see him grin _more_ , so they focus on tracing patterns on his chest, “I’m glad. I wanted to make you feel good.”

”And you went above and beyond,” His tone is light, and they can feel the hand he settled on their side starting to trail down, “A sentiment I’d like to return in full, if you’d allow me the honor.”

Their mouth goes dry, heart rate spiking again. “You don’t-“ His hand runs down the length of their outer thigh, brushing just above their knee. A silent request that has her legs shifting for him -a frustrating effect of him being _him_ , their body reacts to his touch without the need of her brain. They try to shift the conversation, even as his fingers work a path up their inner thigh. “That’s- That’s a lot of promise coming from a guy that hasn’t even tried to sit up yet.”

One dark brow raises at their teasing, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Believe me, there are plenty of... _efficient_ ways I can make you feel good just like this. My fingers, perhaps?” As he speaks he drags a single digit through their folds and they jump, gripping at his bicep. “Or maybe on my tongue.”

Well. 

That was a tempting offer. That heat from earlier comes back with a vengeance, curling in their belly. 

“I didn’t do this- this wasn’t like an expected exchange situation,” They’re panting now, fighting a losing battle, “Tonight was about _you_.”

”And it was, now the rest of the night is for me to show you how _thankful_ I am.”

They let themself get lost in his touch, handing the control back to him -because Nate is as stubborn as he is patient at times, always one to give as much as he gets.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far uh, sorry?


End file.
